


Skip The Dishes

by IWillBeTheEndofYou



Series: The Domestic Lives Of Figure Skaters [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Brattiness, Domestic, Ice Skating, Loneliness, M/M, Raising kids, Sulking, Uncertainty, Yuri Plisetsky Needs a Hug, Yuri hurts, ordinary days of extraordinary people, practice, tantrums, touch starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27947228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWillBeTheEndofYou/pseuds/IWillBeTheEndofYou
Summary: Yuri does not appreciate being told what to do.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: The Domestic Lives Of Figure Skaters [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046686
Comments: 14
Kudos: 295





	Skip The Dishes

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated with every beat of my heart to my JT, who is blessed enough to not have an account here, as I have not corrupted him appropriately.

“Yurio,” the blond looked up sharply from his phone. “Please put your plate in the sink.”

“What?” the teen repeated dumbly. 

“Your plate. Please put it in the sink.” Yuuri lifted his drink and sipped. How could he, Yuri thought, acting so casually. He felt his cheeks flaming as he stomped back to the table and snatched the offending item. He paused for a moment and took his glass too. He put them down into the sink with no small amount of irritation.

“There!” he declared. Yuuri lifted his fork again.

“And rinse them.” he said smoothly. Yuri could have pulled his hair. He snarled and yanked on the tap, rinsing the items.

“Are you happy now?” he turned around with a growl.

“Immensely,” the older man finished his water. “Thank you, Yurio.”

He could only hissed and stamp his way to his bedroom, slamming the door. Take his plate to the sink, rinse the dishes. He knew to do that, he did! He figured he'd just get around to it. Later, maybe. When he felt like it.

Grandpa didn't make him clear the table, he thought. And when he wasn't staying with Grandpa, he usually just ate bits of snacks here and there, straight from the packets. No dishes to be concerned with. And bottles of water and soda that could be pitched straight into the recycling or trash when done.

But everyone had had to admit that Nikolai wasn't getting any younger, and even though it cleaved his heart in two, Yuri was better off in St. Petersburg with the piggy and the old man, close to the ice rink. 

“Guardianship?” Victor had blinked a few times when Nikolai had brought it up to him. “Of course. Yurio is welcome with us anytime he wants. Forever, if he wants.” he shrugged, lackadaisical as always. As though they were just asking of Yuri could borrow a jacket.

“Hadn't you better discuss this with your husband?” Nikolai was takenaback.

“My Yuuri will agree, I'm certain of it.” he waved off the concern. “Drop him and the paperwork off as soon as you're ready.” that heartshaped smile and those big blue eyes. It was easy enough for Victor to charm Nikolai into brushing away his concerns.

And he had turned up on their door step less than a week later, with his bags and his scowl and Potya's carrier in one hand. Plenty of time for them to choreograph his routine for the season. Enough time to get settled. They sat there, at the same kitchen table that Yuuri was at now, finishing his supper. They scribbled down their names while Yuri shoved his hands in his pockets and bit back the hot stinging tears in his eyes.

He felt used, thrown away, cast aside. Logically, Yuri understood. This was for his career, this was for Grandpa's health. And there was nothing Yuri wouldn't do for Grandpa. It didn't stop that ache in his chest, though.

And when Grandpa hugged him goodbye, crushed him to his chest, rubbed the back of his head with those thick fingers... he'd almost sobbed then. Instead, he just bunched handfuls of his Grandpa's coat in his fists, held on tightly. He'd stood on the sidewalk, watching the car until it was out of sight. 

Neither Yuuri or Victor had told him to come inside. Neither had spoken to him when he finally did, the red in his cheeks perhaps not from the biting cool of the air, and there was silence as he headed straight to the room dedicated as 'his' now with Potya's bed in the windowsill, and his blanket and pillow tossed onto the bed. Neither had bothered him when he threw himself down and clutched that pillow to his chest.

In fact, Katsudon and Vitya were content enough to give him space. That was fine enough with him. They didn't question his hours, didn't ask after his schoolwork. They only seemed to wake him to go to the rink, or to tell him there was food on the stove, should he want it.

And the uneasy peace had spread through them for a week, maybe a week and a half. 

One evening, he could hear the voices in the living room. Feeling slightly embarrassed, he'd cracked the door to his room to listen.

“He needs time.” Victor was saying.

“Of course he does. And he'll have all the time he needs. But he's a child, and he needs boundaries and expectations, Victor.”

“He has the expectations of the country on him!”

“I realize that! And that's why he needs boundaries here. He has to know that we support him and want what's best for him if he has a prayer of making it.” it was unusual for the piggy to be so passionate about something, Yuri thought. The tips of his ears heated up at the knowledge they were discussing him.

“He will hate that.”

“You're so worried about him being happy, you're not seeing what's best for him.”

“I don't want him to hate us!” Victor spat out. Yuuri was silent for a moment.

“I don't think he'll ever hate us. Not forever, anyway. Everyone hates their parents at some point. It's healthy to push. And he's gonna push, Vitya. He's not used to it, it's gotta be scary and strange for him. He's used to coaches, not—not parents.”

“He had Nikolai.” that was right! He did have Nikolai!

“Nikolai doted on that child. And for good reason.” Yuuri sighed. “Victor, have you even hugged him since he's been here?”

“He hates hugs.” Victor sounded scandalized. 

“People need touch, it's a thing!” Yuri put his hand over his mouth and nose to hide his snort. “And either way, I'm not going to be disrespected in my own home by a child.” he rose then, heading for their bedroom down the hallway, Victor hot on his heels. Yuri drew back from the door, hiding in the shadows waiting for them to pass by.

And a few days later, Victor had had to leave for a summit. He waved to them from the taxi taking him to the airport. Yuri realized it was just him and the piggy, without the buffer that was Victor. He huffed and turned to stalk back into the condo.

Yuuri had seemed unruffled, making supper and calling him to come eat. He scowled when he realized that he had been poured a glass of milk instead of soda, but he decided not to comment on it. At least Yuuri was a decent enough cook, he thought as he tucked in. Not that he would ever say that out loud.

And when he was done, he had risen, taking his phone out of his pocket to poke at. It was only then that the piggy's voice startled him. And now Yuri was pouting on his bed, and Potya was sitting on the foot of the bed, prettily grooming her face.

He didn't like being told what to do.

He didn't like when Yuuri had looked so calm as he was putting the dishes in the sink, as he rinesd them. He especially didn't like that the older man had even had the gall to thank him kindly. He was supposed to be mad at him. He was supposed to yell. He was supposed to sneer. Didn't Yuuri even know how to argue properly?

He snorted and pulled his phone out, ready to scrawl through his Instagram. His feet dangled lazily off the bed. He was so preoccupied, he didn't even hear the door open.

“Yurio?” the man called softly. The teen almost jolted off the bed.

“Da?” 

“I'm heading to bed, kiddo. I've had a long day.” Yuuri was leaning in the doorway. 

“So what?”

“So I wanted to tell you good night.” there was a heavy pause. Yuri lifted his head from his phone. He had the chance to scoff, or throw something, or just turn away and ignore him. The brunette just stood there, leaning, looking as relaxed as you please. As though he didn't have any idea how ridiculous he was being. 

“Good night,” he mumbled. Yuuri nodded and began to walk away. Yuri scrambled off his bed though, chased after him. The brunette paused, looking over his shoulder, confused. Before he could ask, pale, slender arms were wrapped loosely around his waist. He froze for a second, staring down at the blond hair under his chin. His arm draped around those thin shoulders.

“Good night, Yurio.” he said softly. He almost gave a squeeze, but just as quickly as Yuri was there, he was gone. Back to his bed, his back to the older man, who only closed the door and padded to his own room.


End file.
